


World's Greatest Assistant!

by PiinkMirage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, But He'll Get Better, Editor/Assistant AU, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Not Really lol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romano is an asshole, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiinkMirage/pseuds/PiinkMirage
Summary: Things had not been going well for Gilbert Beilschmidt. For a while now. Unemployed, broken up with and crashing on his brother's couch, Gilbert attempts to start getting his shit together by taking a job as an assistant... An assistant for the world's most unbearable, smoking hot editor, Lovino Vargas.Sooner than later Gilbert finds out that Lovino is not as heartless as he seems, and worst of all, that he has a lot in common with him. Fate just seems to push them together constantly, and as much as he dislikes it, as much as they don't work at all, he just can't hate Lovino.[Editor/Assistant AU. An attempt of a slow burn character exploration/romance/dumbass Prumano dynamic shenanigans and a tiny bit of angst]
Relationships: Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	World's Greatest Assistant!

**Author's Note:**

> Gilbert has a hellish first day at work and makes an awful impression on his boss, Mr. Vargas.

“Is my hair okay?”

Ludwig mechanically put down the newspaper he held in his hands, and spared him a simple glance, frowning in thought, clearly making an analysis not only of Gilbert’s hair, but also his outfit, in classic Perfectionist Ludwig fashion. Gilbert just stood awkwardly and flapped his arms a bit like a penguin. 

“That tie doesn’t match.” He pointed out quickly, signalling the blue tie he wore. “But your hair is fine.” He added as well. Gilbert merely hummed in response, eyeing himself in the antique full-body mirror of the living room area. He was quiet in thought, as if he was taking his time ironing out details about the suit, the tie, his hair, and so on, and that wasn’t usually Gilbert’s style, at least not when it came to his appearance. So, Ludwig took it upon himself to prod a little, smiling subtly as his gaze returned to the newspaper. “I didn’t take you for the nervous type.”

Instantly, Gilbert rebutted like his life depended on it with that faux laid-back tone he used when he was, well, nervous. 

“ _ Me? _ Nervous? Please! If you weren’t my brother, I’d say you barely know me!” He gloated with what sounded like a confident chuckle coming from a good con-artist. 

Ludwig didn’t respond with more than a soft ‘sure’ and a tiny chuckle, soft spoken as he was during the mornings. But after a bit of thought, quiet, and Gilbert’s obsessive examination of his suit, he spoke up again. 

“You’ll do good.” He encouraged him. “I know you will.”

Gilbert glanced at him in surprise, taken aback by the affectionate show of support, but instantly covered it up by smirking triumphantly.

“Hell yeah I will! I’m gonna assist these prissy idiots so hard they’ll never know what hit them.” He jested around a bit, throwing a punch at the air to enact his words with a smirk, making Ludwig laugh a bit. 

“Alright, alright. Maybe no hitting on your first day, though.” 

“Fine... No promises though.”

-————————

Ha! No hitting on your first day. That kid was funny when he wasn’t busy being a robot, Gilbert thought with a smirk, hopping on the bus and claiming a pretty window seat for himself. It was all the more relevant considering last time around, hitting a co-worker on the first week was what got him fired. Or was it the time before that? No, the time before that was definitely because he snapped at his boss. Not that it mattered, those weren’t worthy things to think about on the way to his new job. And quite an awesome job at that too. Gilbert bounced his leg to the rhythm of the music on his headphones, albeit somewhat anxiously. He had this in the bag, he told himself. The job was his, he’d been picked for a reason. Yeah, so what if a friend recommended him for the spot? He wasn’t under qualified or some bullshit. He could nail it.  


The thought made him sigh and press his forehead against the window. The weather was definitely not the best augury-- heavy, puffy clouds threatened with rain, and the smell of petrichor loomed in the air like a self-fulfilling prophecy. But Gilbert could’ve cared less, he was used to the rain, and lately, he was starting to feel like German cities like his home shone the brightest under gray skies and dim lights. And rain always brought good luck, anyways. Which, pathetic as it was, he probably needed.

Frankly, things haven't really been going exceptionally, no. He’d lost the most stable job he’d had a few months back, broken up with his ex dramatically and ended up in a cocoon in Ludwig’s couch for a week or so before going job hunting and losing two jobs in the span of a month. Yeah, not great. College had been out of the question for a while now, but in the present, it just seemed farther than ever before, and that made Gilbert feel oddly bitter. All the plans he’d made in his late teens seemed to fly out of the window like a dumb paper plane, as did all the other things that’d once brought a sense of stability to his life. No partner, no job, no home, no solid relationships aside from a few friendships and his brother.

So, naturally, this dumb assistant job was kind of a big deal, as much as he didn’t want it to be.  


He wasn’t built to be an assistant, and he knew it, Gilbert mused as he opened his umbrella and maneuvered through people after hopping off the bus energetically. But this was probably his best shot as it was. The position was doable -he didn’t even lie on the resume!-, well-paid and had a hefty amount of benefits. If he could keep it, it’d really help him get back on his feet and fix his life for good. Even if he’d much rather be opening his own parlor rather than making coffee for some fancy CEO. 

The headquarters of  _ Viva _ certainly didn’t shine its brightest during cloudy days, Gilbert noted to himself. The building was still quite impressive and stylish, just not its brightest. It was an organically shaped tower, curved inwards and faced with hundreds of windows, and an entrance so pompous that it reminded Gilbert of five starred hotels rather than corporate buildings. Even though it clearly prided itself in being modern-- the abuse of glossy black tiles, minimalist lamps and indoor plants spoke for itself-- there were touches of more classic aesthetics that made Gilbert feel like the place had a soul. The paintings on the walls, the ceramic framing of the elevator, the mahogany rug on the stairway. He’d already been to the building for a few interviews, but every time he found something new, interesting to look at, if only for a few seconds before the elevator arrived. 

Today, however, he didn’t have that luxury, because the elevator wasn’t just quick-- it also welcomed Gilbert with the sight of a handsome man with a sour expression on his face. He was speaking very fast Italian or Spanish, Gilbert had no clue, and each word made him sound closer and closer to manslaughter. And then he hung up, gifting Gilbert the most bitter glare, briefly snapping out of his anger, only to be replaced with more anger, and a little bit of confusion. 

“You--” The handsome man finally said, pointing at Gilbert, making him lift a brow. 

“Me?” He muttered, pointing at himself as well. 

“You’re, uh… You’re the damned assistant Antonio recommended, aren’t you?” He said, surprising Gilbert majorly. The way he openly handled himself just seemed… so unprofessional. Sure, Gilbert wasn’t one to talk, but still! This guy was a boss and still went around cursing and screaming into phones like a madman and nobody did anything about it?

“Um…” He trailed off. Yes, of course that was him, Antonio had hooked him into the job after all. But this man was definitely not the person he was supposed to be assisting. Antonio had promised him a gentle, cute Canadian guy as a boss, not a man composed largely of stress and, from the looks of his left hand, espresso. “Yes, Antonio recommended me for the position, uh… Are you Mr. Williams?” He asked, knowing the obvious answer yet not wanting to put himself in the spot by saying something too accusatory like ‘you’re not my boss!’

The Italian guy -so he’d picked up from his accent-, seemed incredulous at the question. 

“What-- Do I  _ look _ like Mr. Williams to you?” He said with a somewhat sardonic laugh. 

“Uh… No?” Gilbert replied. The elevator doors started to close but the man put his foot on the door quickly and the door reopened, revealing his deadpan expression. 

“Exactly. Will you come in, or are you just looking?” He said sarcastically, tapping his foot impatiently, to which Gilbert rushed inside the elevator, somewhat taken aback, and too shocked to even react or feel angry at the way he was being treated. But it was no biggie, this guy was clearly not Mr. Williams, and he was there just to assist Mr. Williams, not Mr. Anger Issues over there.

Except, clearly, this guy seemed to disagree, because as soon as the elevator stopped, he stepped out and glanced back, clearly expecting Gilbert to do the same. A little surprised, unsure what to really do and frankly unaware of where he was supposed to go, he followed. 

“Morning, Vargas.” Greeted a cocky Englishman with two coffee cups in his hand. “New assistant?”

In response, whom he now knew was Mr. Vargas, just seemed to huff, which devilishly amused his co-worker. Gilbert just felt a little small, lost and unsure. Ugh. At least he knew his name now, though. Vargas checked his phone as he walked, every now and then sipped his coffee, flawlessly guiding the way into his office which was, to Gilbert’s surprise the biggest one around, from look’s sake. Just like the entrance, even the offices were pristine, neat and stylish. Gilbert hesitated before stepping in, opening his mouth to speak and explain the situation, only to be interrupted. 

“Gilbert Beilschmidt, then?” 

“Yes.” He replied quickly, trying to get ahead but this Italian guy had a quick tongue and a sharpened mind. 

“It’s Sir.” Vargas pointed out, not sparing him a glance as he looked at a paper in his hands, reading it rapidly. Jesus, for such a handsome guy, he sure was a hassle. 

“What?” Gilbert responded, trying to hide his surprise. 

“It’s  _ yes, sir _ . Got it?”

Gilbert was internally bewildered. Such a modern company led by such outdated policies, huh… The job was important, though, so he bit his tongue and nodded. 

“Yes. Excuse me. I--”

“Good. I’m Mr. Vargas. You can ask Francis’ assistant to show you around and lead you to your desk. There’s a folder filled with all the numbers you should need. First I’ll need you to book a table for two at Rodizio’s downtown for ah… Tomorrow at eleven. Then let Emma know I’m not gonna be present for today’s general meeting. Oh, and get her a croissant from Pain Quotidien while at it. Make it cute, leave a note and all.” Gilbert panicked a little, scratching the back of his head with an annoyed sigh that he trapped beneath his lips. “Then you need to help me carry some bags somewhere, I’ll lead you. Get me lunch too. Thai is fine, ask for Lovino’s usual at Koko bar down the street and bring it over here at twelve exactly. And some boba too--”

“Uh, Mr. Vargas.” He interrupted as politely as he could, earning a very mean glance his way. 

“What?”

“I think there’s been a mistake.” He pointed out. “I-- Mr. Williams is the person who hired me.” 

“No.  _ Viva _ hired you, Beilschmidt.” Lovino replied quickly, sitting on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest after rubbing his temple for a few seconds. He seemed annoyed, in the way one would be with a delayed subway or bus, or a missing pen. “Mr. Williams is away, and I need an assistant right now. Will you do what I ask, or are you just gonna stand there?” He said, a bit more outwardly aggressive, making Gilbert purse his lips. What the Hell? This was  _ not _ what he’d signed up for…

But God, he really didn’t want to disappoint his brother or Toni, or…

Yeah, nevermind. 

“I’m at your service.” He finally replied after a few seconds of thought.  _ Unfortunately, _ he thought. 

Mr. Vargas didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, and his amber gaze bore into Gilbert as he sipped his expensive little espresso. It hit Gilbert quickly. 

“I’m at your service, Sir.” He said, glancing at Mr. Vargas’ shoes, trying to hide his irritation. God, why was it so humiliating? Ludwig was kind of right to assume Gilbert just wasn’t fit for the white collar life, he supposed. 

Vargas seemed satisfied.

-————————

  
  


The rest of the day was hectic. Another assistant, a polite, albeit distant guy called Tolys, showed him the ropes in a much less competitive, cut-throat manner than what he’d expected. Sure, maybe it was a little cartoonish to imagine everyone at a fashion focused workplace was a bitchy snake, but he’d sort of… genuinely expected much more malice from his co-workers. 

Still, as much as Tolys offered to help, it was difficult to get used to the folder, the rhythm, the laptop, and especially how difficult Mr. Vargas was. All his co-workers, during a coffee break, expressed how sorry they felt for Gilbert, and Gilbert tried to laugh it off and put himself above Vargas, but he still felt… Petty and somewhat adrift, defenceless in a world he had just dived headfirst in. 

And the last thing he needed while he was feeling lost and trying hard to adapt, was an annoying voice in his ear telling him how he was doing everything wrong, how the coffee he’d brought was burnt, or how the croissant wasn’t the right one, or add ten other things to his to-do list and all of a sudden request him to stay extra hours on his first day. Yeah, that kind of thing just pissed him off, naturally. 

But he kept it together, for the sake of everyone. He needed the job. The job was worth it. 

He repeated that like a mantra, over and over again, until it barely made much sense anymore. 

By six, he was exhausted and ready to disappear from the facility. Most of the assistants had already left, and Gilbert’s cinnabar eyes followed the figure of a blond man with long hair who waltzed out of his office and into the elevator with a soft frown. Vargas didn’t show any signs of leaving. GIlbert rubbed his temple and walked into the office again, with the third coffee of the day in hand, placing it on Vargas’ desk. 

Vargas spared little less than a glance at it and his eyes mechanically returned to the screen. “I said cappuccino.” He pointed out. 

Gilbert froze at the door, holding his breath and all the stress he felt with it. He should’ve just taken it and left, but God, he’d  _ not _ said cappuccino, he’d clearly spat out that he wanted a shot of an espresso. 

So he let him know. 

“...No.” He replied. “You said espresso.” 

Mr. Vargas glanced up in genuine surprise, thick eyebrows knitting together over his pretty long lashes, amber eyes suddenly brought to life with interes. “Excuse you?” 

“You said espresso. If you want a cappuccino, I’ll get you one now, it’s fine. But I didn’t miss it. You said espresso.” He said, as calmly as he possibly could. At that point, Vargas looked indignant. 

The Italian stood up quietly, and the stress was obvious in his expression and body. He’d spent the day running around the building, moving things from place to place and yelling at people, so it wasn’t really a shocker. “Don’t correct me.” He said, leaning on the desk in a subtly menacing way.

Gilbert considered backing out. He knew it was the right thing, knew he should’ve apologised and back off. But it wasn’t his nature, and his restraint abilities were below average at best. 

“Then stop pushing me around.” He said defyingly, spiking Vargas’ interest clearly, judging by the way he stepped closer slowly, until they stood just inches away. 

“You wanna work here, right?” Mr. Vargas said, voice calm despite his thinly veiled, concealed exasperation. “You like this job. It’s a massive opportunity for you. Isn’t it?”

_ No _ , Gilbert thought. But he answered with a soft yes. 

“Then shut your ass up.” Lovino snapped, voice firm but charged with edge. “And change your goddamn tie, it’s disgusting.” 

Gilbert stammered, a little shaken from the distance and shocked at the words. What the hell? Who let this guy think that he had any right to be this much of an asshole just because he was stressed? Gilbert bit his lip, knowing he was about to snap but unable to do anything about it before it was too late. 

“What the hell is wrong with my tie?” He spat, catching Vargas’ attention again, making him turn around. Before he could retort, though, Gilbert continued, poking a finger at his chest. “With all due respect-- You don’t get to push me around. I don’t care where you stand, I won’t let you walk all over me just because I’m your assistant. You don’t get to shove people around and treat them like shit just because you’re stressed. We’re  _ all _ tired.” He rambled, unable to stop himself. “So get your shit together, buy a stress ball or something, and let me be.” He added, and when he finally dared to look up at him, instead of seeing pure seething rage as he’d expected, he was met with a very red faced Vargas, who seemed genuinely shocked to be met with a reaction. The asshole was probably used to doormats who never reacted. It wasn’t a shocker. Gilbert, who was starting to feel the weight of his shitty choice, seized the awkward silence and took his chance to turn around and open the door. “Uh… Anyways… I’ll get you that cappuccino.” He announced quickly, shutting the door behind himself. 

Fuck. 

No way he’d fucked up that hard. Losing his job on the first day was definitely a record. 

It just felt like he’d failed a massive test. And the sinking feeling of disappointment filled him. He’d truly meant what he’d said, and what others might praise as assertiveness was actually nothing but a problem. Even though he felt no regret, a recurring feeling of guilt about not being able to hold back when needed filled him.

He brought him the cappuccino a little later and Vargas didn’t even speak or glance at him. Gilbert left without a word. By seven, the Italian allowed him to leave, and the elevator ride was painfully awkward and silent. Without a proper goodbye or anything of the sort, Vargas walked out in that light pace he had, leaving Gilbert feeling somewhat miserable, but also confused. He’d expected the jerk to find pleasure in verbally berating him some more and then firing him on the spot, but that just didn’t happen. Maybe a formal telegram was more of his style…

Once he was home, he dropped himself on the bed with a heavy sigh, mind blank and chest heavy. God, he felt like such an idiot. He’d messed up a huge opportunity, and for what? By the time Ludwig was home, he deliberately pretended to be asleep and had a restless night of tossing and turning

By the time the alarm woke him up -he’d forgotten to turn it off-, he felt groggy and uneasy. He picked up his phone to cancel it and go back to sleep, only to notice he had an email from Vargas that was phrased surprisingly formally, with a list of updated contacts and information that, as mentioned in the email, wasn’t present in the folder he’d given him. 

Gilbert jumped out of his bed, eyes wide. No way. This made no sense-- but it had to be true. His mind flashed back to the moment when he’d talked back to Lovino, the way his expression had contorted into shame and embarrassment in a way he hadn’t imagined someone like Mr. Vargas was capable of. It was certainly odd and bizarre, but at that moment, all that mattered was that he hadn’t lost the gig.

Yes! He wasn’t a lost cause! 

So he dressed up energetically, and this time, he chose a pink tie and didn’t leave until Ludwig approved of his outfit from head to toes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading! If you enjoyed this or want to see more, please consider leaving kudos or a comment!  
> Oh, and you can also find me as EspejismoVerde on FF.net


End file.
